


dear listener, run quick

by YunalalieMoon



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, Jisung is like, M/M, Mystery, because that’s my pace HAHAHA, fast-paced, for the first 3 or so chapters, i'm just as bad as those my face stickers, lmao why did I make this, or i am full, there but not there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-07-05 05:14:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15856917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YunalalieMoon/pseuds/YunalalieMoon
Summary: Lee Minho finds multiple tape recordings all left by the same unfamiliar voice his attic.And, okay, maybe falling in love with a guy’s voice isn’t the smoothest thing Minho could have done, but he’ll make it work.Right?





	1. d

_*beep*_

 

_..._

 

_*beep*_

 

_..._

 

_*be—*_

 

_Hello? Hello? This thing is working, right? I hope so. Welcome then, listener, to my life. I won’t tell you my name for now, trust me, you’re much better off not knowing._

 

_I’m hiding right now in my closet. It’s dark and I can’t seem to find the door out. How odd, right? I’m so young, in high school, yet I already know so much. There’s clouds covering the sky today, hiding the light from my blinded eyes. Ha, that was one of my rap lyrics, and I bet you didn’t even know._

 

_Now that I think about it, I don’t know much about you, but you already know a bit about me. What’s your name?_

 

It was pre-recorded, but he answered anyway. “Lee Minho.”

 

_Lee Minho, huh? I’ve always loved full names that had the same first letter. Nice alliteration, good for fitting into lyrics._

 

_Now, I have to go. He’s coming back for me._

 

Static took over the recording before a final message was whispered. 

 

_“Dear listener, run quick.”_

 

Lee Minho was not a believer in the supernatural. A tape recorder from the past getting his name? Impossible. Absolutely impossible. A tape recorder from the past telling him to run quicker? What was he, his track coach?

 

Minho didn’t pay any attention to the recorder as he threw it back into his box, planning to walk out of the attic. However, as soon as his hand touched the handle, he stopped in his tracks, turning back around to face the box. He picked it up, not noticing the one cassette that dropped out.

 

He walked out of the attic and to his room, still thinking about the sweet voice.

 

The familiar sweet voice.


	2. e

* _beep*_

 

_..._

 

_*beep*_

 

_..._

 

_*be—*_

 

_Heyo, Minho! It’s me again. I just finished writing a song with my friends, and I think it’s really cool. I don’t honestly know where I got the inspiration for it, since it’s basically something that seems like a national anthem for the club. Do you think so?_

 

_Wait, I can’t let you hear it. You’ll hear my voice and know who I am._

 

...

 

_Oh, wait a minute. Never mind, I’m really stupid. Well, either way, I’m untalented and I don’t want you to sue me. I’m only a poor trainee, don’t do this to me. Shoot, I just gave it away that I’m a trainee! Shh, you never heard anything from me._

 

Minho chuckled, crossing his legs as he stared at the tape player. He had gone through the set and chosen the next one, wondering what it would say. Minho had hoped he’d get to know the mysterious person behind the recordings more, and he undoubtedly had from the other’s stupidity. “Cute,” Minho mumbled.

 

_What? Cute? Me? What am I, some stupid deer? I’m very manly. See. Very manly face. Wow, cower in fear before me, you stupid peasant! I’m sorry. You are not a stupid peasant. You are a very pretty, stupid peasant. Or a pretty stupid peasant. I’m stupid._

 

_Dang, I could use those as lyrics for my next mixtape. Ji—...uh, Han’s next mixtape: Pretty Stupid Peasant, Featuring Lee Minho! That is, if you want to be in it. I’ll probably let you do it no matter what. Unless you’re untalented. Then again, if I didn’t let untalented people join, I couldn’t even rap on it. Kidding, you’re very unique and good at everything. I think. Love ya, boo._

 

Minho’s small smile quickly turned into concern as he heard loud screams in the background.

 

_I’m crying in the club—Changbin, my friend, just accidentally stabbed Chan in the eye with a pen. Sorry, it sounds like actual murder in here. I’m so done, I need new friends. Seriously._

 

_Also, I was watching a National Geographic documentary from a year ago. Is that you? Why do you look like that? Save some talent for the rest of us. I swear, I’m going to be very disappointed if we meet one day and you’re not that Lee Minho. I’ll cry. I’m joking. I think._

 

_World War Three is starting. I have to go before someone dies and it’s my fault. See you, Lee Minho. Remember me, because I’m genuinely forgettable. Ha!_

 

_Oh, wait. No, he’s picking me up right now. I have to go. Minho, I have to go. Sorry. Don’t worry, okay?_

 

The tape fizzles into static before the same eerie voice plays again. 

 

_“Lee Minho. I’ve warned you. You better start running.”_

 

Minho pulled the tape out, choosing to ignore the warning. Whoever it was was just probably trying to scare him, kind of like a prank that you’d pull on your friend. Yeah.

 

Calmly and lovingly, he held the tape, rubbing it with his fingers. “You’re not forgettable at all,” he muttered, starting to stand up. “It’s not everyday that a prerecorded tape knows a lot about me. Besides,” Minho said, blushing. “I wouldn’t forget you even if you didn’t know anything about me.”

 

Minho sighed, rummaging through his closet. “Aha!” he exclaimed, pulling a disc out from the corner. It was a small circle, labeled National Geographic.

 

Minho sprinted down the carpeted stairs, almost tripping down the last four. He flopped onto the carpet in front of the TV and pressed the open button on the disc player repeatedly. When it opened, he hastily shoved the disc in and waited for the show to pop up. When it finally did, Minho frantically checked for the date that would be printed on the corner.

 

There.

 

March 15th, 2014. 

 

If the recording had said it came out a year ago, then did that mean the recordings were made in 2015? Two years ago? Minho frowned, staring blankly at the reporter talking about Beast. Yes, it did.

 

All of a sudden, Minho heard footsteps from behind him. He whipped his head around, looking for the source of the sound. No one besides him was supposed to be home.

 

The carpeted hallways were eerily empty. The paintings on the walls seemed to look at him from their place, sneering at Minho and trying to scaring him. The sky was dark, as his parents and brother only returned from the party at nine. Minho took a deep breath and walked to the front door. It was open.

 

”Odd,” was all Minho managed to say before shutting it right. “Must’ve been the wind.”

 

Lee Minho didn’t bother to notice the footsteps ringing out throughout the house, only choosing to focus on the documentary.

 

There was nothing for him to worry about. Minho smiled as he thought about the voice. A trainee, huh? Maybe Minho could look for a trainee with a similar voice as him. Wouldn’t that be great? 

 

Minho drifted to sleep, quietly tapping his fingers to his ringtone. A song by a small pre-debut group that he’d liked two years ago. Minho had already forgotten the name.

 

A small faint beeping came from his upstairs bedroom. Minho opened one eye and tilted his head up. He faintly heard the voice again. “Yo, Minho,” the recording called.

 

”Huh? It’s on?” Minho mumbled, stepping up the stairs two at a time. 

 

When he walked in, no one was there. The recording was just playing. Minho shut it off, deciding to save it for the next day. 

 

Tiredly, Minho fell onto his bed and started wrapping himself methodically in the soft blankets, humming his ringtone as he drifted to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, we’ll get to meet one of Minho’s friends! I haven’t decided which member it’ll be, or if it will be a member at all. It probably will, lmao.
> 
> anyway stays
> 
> stream awkward silence instead of enjoying this terrible writing 
> 
> let’s just play a game of guess the member to keep u guys entertained
> 
> snake, devil, but only to one member


	3. a

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of you guys don’t seem to understand why Minho didn’t exactly think his door being open was creepy.
> 
> Here, this is how I thought of it (because honestly I would’ve done the same as Minho):
> 
> 1\. He doesn’t believe in the supernatural.
> 
> 2\. It’s windy as hell in South Korea. My front door was blown open thirty-two times in one year from the wind, and I don’t even live somewhere as windy as SK.
> 
> 3\. There were people walking in the documentary, as they were traveling through the different places.
> 
> 4\. Minho doesn’t like to use common sense. Honestly, I kinda yelled at him while writing it too.
> 
> It’s not that I made him dumb, I just made him a firm believer that everything has a reason, and I made the weather strong and windy. Maybe if I had went into detail about that, I would’ve gotten less comments about it.
> 
> (Nonetheless, it does seem pretty dumb to even me. But, hey, Minho’s actually a positive person in this story, so his mind doesn’t automatically think “bloody murder better run” when he sees it. He thinks “oh, Mother Nature is upset.”)
> 
> I sound really mad, but I’m not. I’m actually laughing while writing this note, haha. I’m trying hard not to follow the “stupid character” in horror movies trope! (Even though this isn’t horror.)

_*beep*_

 

_..._

 

_*beep*_

 

Minho blinked his eyes open, sitting up on his bed. The tape recorder was starting? He didn’t remember putting it on. Minho groaned from his bed, turning around, wrapping himself further into the covers. It was too early for this, he decided. He didn't catch the shadow leaving the room.

 

_*be—*_

 

_Yo, Minho. Sorry for waking you up, I didn’t expect you to still be asleep. I’m at the train station near my house right now, because I have to go to the company building. Stupid company, makes me wake up earlier than the stupid coooooo birds. You do know what I’m talking about, right? Those ones that go SHHSJAJAAKKAAK whenever the sun comes up._

 

”Roosters. The word you’re looking for is roosters,” Minho mumbled, his face still pressed into his BTS pillow he got signed as a gift.

 

_The beep beep things are roosters? Man, they didn’t teach me anything at the academy I went to. I’m glad my job doesn’t involve me being smart because I’d fail at everything if it did. Then again, I kinda do have to be smart to write lyrics and stuff. That’s... annoying._

 

_The train should come in, like, a minute, so I’m just going to ramble on until it comes. I think you’re very handsome._

 

_Oh, that was an awkward thing to start a conversation on. But, yeah, the documentary person better have been you. I’ll be disappointed if the documentary edited you to make you look prettier. Probably not, because the quality of that stupid video was as bad as YouTube’s in 2008. And that was completely terrifying._

 

_I’m assuming you’re watching this, no, listening to this... around January? Yeah?_

 

Minho sighed, managing a small grunt of agreement. He had barely shifted since the recording started, and it didn’t look like he was planning on doing anything soon. “How’d you know it was January...?” Minho asked, still laying there.

 

_Well, I was just taking a guess. No harm in that, haha. I’m not a creepy stalker, I swear. But you know who are creepy stalkers? Squirrels. Then again, that would by default make me a stalker because I am a squirrel. At least, that’s what my members call me. Logic._

 

_My group currently has, like, four members. We’re not going to debut any time soon, because we need more. Maybe we’ll have seven by the time you’re listening to this. Chan, our leader, is very nice. He’ll make sure we debut, even though we’re only a makeshift rotating line-up._

 

_If you ever run into a Chan, Changbin, or a Hyunjin, don’t look around them. I might be nearby. And that’s bad. Because I’m ugly. And, uh, you might faint from how terrifying I am?_

 

The pause in the tape was too short for Minho to sleepily defend the voice. “You probably aren’t even th—“

 

_I swear, Lee Minho, you haven’t even met me yet. You’ll see later, I’m never wrong._

 

Minho sighed. This boy needed self-confidence. No one could be as ugly as the voice was making himself out to be, and Minho bet he wasn't even that ugly. "I swear, I'm going to force you to gain more confidence one of these days," he mumbled. "Like, seriously, can you—"

 

Minho was interrupted by a loud sound coming from the tape. It was a train, he realized.

_Oh, that’s my train. I have to go, Minho. I can’t talk into a stupid cassette tape on a train, people will think I’m actually crazy. Anyway, have fun living life. Don’t do anything stupid and get in trouble, because I’ll go into debt trying to bail you out of jail. See you!_

 

Minho sighed as the tape cut back into static. "What the actual heck? Stop leaving all of a sudden!" Minho yelled, frustrated. He hit the top of the cassette tape player.

 

_Dear Minho, why aren't you listening to me? Stay away from him. You might want to get a head start._

 

Minho hummed, ignoring the message. "Yeah, yeah, I get it, stop trying to scare me, the joke's getting old," he said, pausing. "Even if it isn't a joke, where the heck am I going to run to? Besides, like you'll stop me from putting a tape into a player," Minho scoffed, taking the cassette out of the machine. "I don't think I'd be able to stop doing that anyway," he mumbled as an afterthought.

 

"You were just waking me up, and now I'm only kinda awake. It's not even time to do anything yet, it's Saturday. You are a cruel tape player," Minho complained, dragging himself out of his bed. His hair was ruffled from a night of tossing and turning around.

 

Minho's phone dinged from under his pillow, making him groan. "Are you serious? I just got out of bed and now it rings," Minho says, marveling at how unlucky he was. He awkwardly threw himself at his bed, landing with a thump.

 

Minho's hands barely got his phone, and he hastily unplugged it from the charger to check the message. In his head, Minho swore that if it was Seungmin, he'd kill him. However, as his eyes skimmed over the message, he realized it was not from Seungmin, but his dance academy. Oops. He probably shouldn't ignore that. "Congratulations, Lee Minho," Minho read out loud, narrowing his eyes, "We have submitted your dance tape—My dance tape? They said they'd keep that private!—to JYP Entertainment and..."

 

Minho paused, blinking violently. The text stared back at him, a glowing bright green. Honestly, if Minho didn't have 20/20 vision, he would have thought he had misread the acceptance letter. "JYP Entertainment? Accept? Me? Oh, wow. Uh," Minho awkwardly mumbled, opening the reply box. He spent the next minute fumbling with the keys on his phone's keyboard. He barely managed to type a "thank you" before turning on his side and hitting his face against the wall.

 

"JYP Entertainment... JYP? That guy? The Big 3 company that actually knows how to treat their artists well? Oh, god, I'm shaking in my boots," Minho said, still trying to fathom the situation. Beads of sweat started to form on his forehead, and he was turning pale. "They're the company with Twice, Got7, Wonder Girls, 2PM, 15&, Day6... and the creepy old guy in a gym," Minho grimaced, recalling the horror on his face after he had accidentally clicked the video.

 

"Wait, when am I supposed to go to the building? Is it like a school?" Minho said, forgetting everything he had ever read on the internet. "Oh, wait, I'm a trainee. I can go whenever I want," Minho realized, snuggling back into his covers. Maybe he could catch up on the sleep that the stupid recording had cost him.

 

All of a sudden, his eyes opened back up. "But I want to practice. How am I going to debut if I don't practice? Jesus," Minho mumbled, rolling out of bed. "Already thinking about debut an hour in, good job, Minho."

 

While putting on his shoes, Minho thought about the current situation. How had his video gotten submitted to the audition box? He didn't remember applying for JYP Entertainment. The only people who had his video were his dance academy, who had signed an oath saying they wouldn't post it, and... Seungmin.

 

Minho speed-dialed the boy, furiously stomping out of his house, ignoring the yells of his mom to shut the door quietly. The air was cold, and Minho could see his own breath. It probably wasn't a good idea to walk to JYP, but Minho was a broke college student. After a minute, Seungmin picked up. Minho had a sudden urge to spit at him. "Kim Seungmin, you little piece of—"

 

"Good morning to you, too, hyung," Seungmin answered. Minho heard a bunch of background noises. People were screaming, having everyday chats and talking about different things, from how their grass was growing to the newest hit song.

 

Minho sighed, turning a corner on the corner of Street Nine. The background noise where he was was already bad enough, now he had to deal with the one coming from the phone pressed against his ear. "Why the actual hell did you submit my practice video to JYP Entertainment? And what level of editing did you do to it for me to get accepted?" Minho ranted. It was a good thing he lived near the entertainment company's new building, or else he would have ever gotten there.

 

Seungmin laughed from the other line, the background noise suddenly fading away. "I submitted it a month ago, you idiot. Besides, I actually think I told you I was going to do it. Remember when I told you I was going to audition for JYP Entertainment?" Seungmin said before Minho heard him talking to a receptionist.

 

Minho fumed, angrily hitting his bag that he had brought. "You never told me I was going to audition with you!" he said, recalling the conversation. From what he remembered, Seungmin only mentioned how he was going to try his luck at the company.

 

Minho swore he could have saw Seungmin shrug. "Oops. Thought I did. But, hey, you're here now, aren't you? You made it to JYP. But you're not at the building. You lazy and incompetent barnacle," Seungmin said, lightheartedly.

 

"What do you mean, I'm the barnacle now? Whatever. I'm going to punch you when I get into that building, I swear," Minho teased back, barely managing to avoid the crowd of bystanders. The building was closer now, and Minho's hands started to shake. This was not a good idea, he decided.

 

Minho wondered why it took so long for Seungmin to respond, before he realized that Seungmin hung up on him. More reason to beat him for real, Minho thought. Instead of thinking about the annoying boy, Minho set his gaze forward and focused on gaining enough courage to actually enter the new and giant looking building.

 

Deciding to just wing it, Minho pushed the door open and walked in. The entrance was a high-ceilinged room with some potted plants and a desk for the two receptionists. Carefully, Minho walked up to them, making sure he didn't embarrass himself on his first day. "Hello, I'm Lee Minho. I'm, uh, a new trainee, so... what do I do?" Minho said, cringing internally at his choice of words.

 

The receptionist must have understood his panic as she kindly gave him a map and explained where the trainees went, as well as handed him his JYP badge. "Use this for the elevator," she said, smiling. "We have these because multiple people have come in pretending to be trainees."

 

Minho briefly questioned why she didn't ask whether or not he was a trainee but ignored it. He had to leave this place before he made another mistake. Hastily running to the elevator, he pressed the "up" button violently. The door opened, and Minho stepped in, pressing the button that made the doors close. He did not feel like riding with a stranger.

 

"Hey, wait!" someone called from a few feet away. Minho panicked, were they asking him to open the elevator door? Not having enough time to react, Minho just stood still, not doing anything as the doors slowly closed.

  
The stranger barreled in, running straight into Minho's chest. Minho fell against the wall with a loud sound, slumping to the ground. The newcomer was in a weird position, semi-hugging Minho yet choking him at the same time. It was a guy, probably not much younger than him, and he had purple hair. Pretty purple hair, Minho realized.

 

"I'm so sorry for running into you like that, I was late for my practice and—" The trainee began, ranting. He talked so fast Minho was surprised he could understand him. He must have been a rapper.

 

Something was oddly familiar about the new trainee, Minho realized. His fears were solidified when the guy pulled away and looked up, smoothing his jacket and continuing to talk.

 

"Yeah, I understand if you'd keep quiet," the trainee said, still not looking up. Minho eyed him wearily. The new guy approached him, offering his hand. "Hi, I'm Han Jisung, and you are—"

 

When the trainee looked up at Minho's face, both of them froze. There was no doubt this was the guy that left the tape recordings, Minho realized. This was definitely him. Minho studied the other's eyes, trying to catch a reaction. He looked just as shocked as him and obviously recognized who he was. "I... think you already know my name," Minho managed.

 

Jisung shook his head and regained his composure. "Oh, no, I don't. I've never seen you before in my life. Your name is?" Jisung asked, trying for a handshake again.

 

Minho blinked, trying to figure out what was wrong. Did he not recognize him? What was this? "My name is Lee Minho," he said, shaking Jisung's hand, trying to elicit a reaction.

 

He didn't get one.

 

Oh, this was going to be one awkward elevator ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter is where the ACTUAL plot development starts because your girlie here planned out the whole plot last night while texting her friend LOL.
> 
> this chapter was less mystery and more just "let's see how they meet" fihaifhf, but, honestly, the next few chapters will mostly just be relationship development, and the actual mystery happens near the end with the tape recorders.
> 
> anYwayS I hope you guys aren’t disappointed with me as this continues because I made a semi-fluffy semi-angsty plot with a few twists and turns
> 
> oh boy am I going to enjoy writing the angst part 
> 
> not really since Jisung is my ultimate bias


	4. r

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why am I doing this to myself school exists and instead of finishing my essay I’m working on this
> 
> also: TO ALL THOSE PEOPLE WHO LEFT KUDOS
> 
> I actually recognize some of you and I’m fucking panicking did you press the kudos button by mistake? LIKE I SAW SOMEONE WHO WROTE MY FAVORITE STRAY KIDS FF EVER AND IM PANICKING
> 
> and to this who I haven’t seen before: I LOVE U JUST AS MUCH YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING I WOULDNT BE ABLE TO DO THIS WITHOUT U

Minho was ready to fight someone. First of all, which higher power decided to screw him over and shove him in an elevator with the same boy that he’d creepily been listening to recordings of for a few days. Second, why did said boy not know his name, although he’d said it multiple times in the recordings? This was definitely the same guy, there was no mistaking it. Last of all, and, perhaps the biggest reason, no one else was joining them in the elevator.

 

Minho awkwardly eyes Jisung from the corner of his eye. Maybe I should try a conversation, Minho thought. They had a few more minutes left in this elevator, anyway. “So,” Minho coughs. “I know you’re the tape guy. There’s no mistaking it. So, uh, can we be less awkward? Because I still have seventeen tapes left to go through, and I’m really curious but don’t want to think about this moment while listening to them,” Minho says, spilling everything into a few sentences.

 

Minho catches Jisung struggle to manage to look at him straight (which, Minho would leave up for your interpretation of which straight.) It takes a moment for Jisung to respond, as he nervously fidgeted with his fingers. “So, you’re the one who found the tapes?” Jisung said, visibly chewing on his inner cheek.

 

Minho snorted, hitting his knee. “Dude, you literally saw a National Geographic documentary with me in it. Are you sure it wasn’t addressed to me?” He said, feeling slightly more confident after knowing he was the confident gay here.

 

Minho watched Jisung struggle to maintain his composure as he flushed. “Well, you know. I just. Yeah. Uh, kinda made things up as I went? No, that’s actually a terrible lie. Uh, yeah. Maybe,” Jisung said.

 

Was it just Minho, or was the space between them kinda small? Two bros, standing five inches apart in an elevator because they’re not gay. Minho laughed at his own wit, looking back at Jisung. “Well, Han Jisung, you’ve met me, and I’ve met you. I don’t think you’re ugly at all, stop putting yourself down like that.”

 

Jisung blankly stares at Minho, and he knew Jisung was struggling to find words to say. “Well,” he said, trying to move away. “My goldfish got put down a month ago, and I never told it to stop putting itself down.”

 

Minho mentally facepalmed and giggled. How cute and stupid. “I’m pretty sure you can’t put a goldfish down, Jisung. Besides, even if you could, it probably didn’t put itself down. You were kinda right about you not being smart,” Minho said, offering the panicking Jisung a crooked grin.

 

”I’m not usually this panicked, it’s just your stupid face! Why do people get more handsome over the years? What is this witchcraft?” Jisung cried, burrying his face into his long sweater sleeves.

 

The elevator reached the seventh floor, saving Jisung from any further embarrassment. Minho watched him scurry out of the elevator, calmly following him. The receptionist had told him to turn left and enter the third door on the right, as that was where solo or duo trainees usually practiced. It hurt, to be referred as a solo trainee. Even though he had Seungmin, Minho knew they’d be a terrible duo. Seungmin would want to play some Day6 song while Minho did some fancy footwork to Begein by Jungkook in the background. A total catastrophe, he decided.

 

Just as Minho was about to walk away, he felt a small tape on his upper arm. Jisung. He raised an eyebrow, looking at the younger.

 

And, oh god, Minho really didn’t appreciate him enough. Jisung has the widest eyes, and they carried an innocent gleam to them. Maybe it was the pretty cocoa pupils, or the elegant and long eyelashes, or the unique monolid. His hair was a random color, of course, but it suited him so well Minho could have sworn it was illegal. 

 

“W—What do you, uh, need, want, desire?” Minho ended up saying, like the idiot he was.

 

Jisung giggled, poking Minho’s arm again. Minho’s mind was exploding with too many thoughts, and 90% of them were just about how cute Jisung was. The other 10% were about how he literally just met the guy ten minutes ago and should calm down. “I was wondering if you would like to meet my friends! We could all, uh, practice together? We have about seven people now, but you can join and make it eight?” Jisung said softly.

 

Minho smiled. He was a weak person. Besides, he didn’t mind abandoning Seungmin, as he’d done the same to him all the time in middle school. “Sure, can you tell me about them while we walk there?” Minho said, lightly putting his hand on Jisung’s shoulder.

 

Jisung shuddered, and carefully removed Minho’s hand from his shoulder. Minho could tell that he enjoined it. “Yeah, uh, follow me,” Jisung said, walking away. He made a small gesture with his hand for Minho.

 

Minho smiled and closely followed the boy. He wondered how weird the scene might have looked to outsiders. Two, fully grown men, one of them walking with a red face and the other creepily following him, looking like a stalker. Yeah, maybe it wasn’t as great as Minho pictured.

 

Jisung led Minho down a bright hallway, filled with pictures of iconic American artists. Minho stares in awe, carefully examining each one with the limited amount of time he was given. Faces like Michael Jackson, Celene Dion, and many others popped out at him. “Wow,” Minho mumbled under his breath. Everything was so colorful, so alive.

 

Jisung grinned, stopping in front of a door. “I know, right? JYP put them up here to remind us who he wants us to be like,” he said. “Although,” Jisung laughed, looking at Celene Dion, “I don’t think I can sing as high as her.” 

 

Minho laughed, staring at Jisung. He could tell he loved making jokes, even without the recordings. Jisung was just generally a fun person to be around, and Minho felt his heart flutter a bit. Which, obviously, wasn’t good, because how would JYP react when he found out he had a gay trainee?

 

”All jokes aside,” Jisung continued, “this is our room! We’ve been labeled by JYP as project group, which... isn’t that flattering, but, hey, it’s a step up from ‘Chan, Trainee 2, Trainee 3, Traniee 4, so on, so forth,” he joked, pushing open a door with Stevie Wonder on it.

 

Minho awkwardly poked his head in after Jisung, examining the insides. The room was rather spacious, and had red, fluffy paddings on the wall for noise control. Some of the mirrors were foggy from practice, and loud music boomed on the speakers. Two trainees, one short and one shortish, but way taller than the other, were practicing rap. Three trainees in the back were loudly singing Egotistic by Mamamoo, and damn, Minho was jealous. He turned around to face Jisung, ignoring how close they were. “There are only five other trainees?”

 

Five pairs of eyes immediately gave him their full attention, and Minho briefly wished he hadn’t said anything at all. What if they thought he was too ugly? First impressions mattered. The room was void of sound except for the speaker system, still playing a beat for rap. The one who looked the most mature stepped Forward, looking at Minho.

 

Minho was absolutely scared and intimidated. The trainee had an eyebrow slit, and looked very serious. How long has he been there, Minho wondered. It had to be very long. Four years, five years, maybe even six. It couldn’t be any number larger than that. Behind him, a younger and less serious looking trainee cowered. He was very cute, and Minho (after being defeated by his own consciousness) wanted to walk up to him and pinch his cheek. Why was someone so cute? Next to the cute trainee was another cute trainee, but in a motherly way. He had bright eyes and pretty hair, and Minho wanted to sit next to him and stroke it. Honestly, Minho’s gay heart was going through too much panic.

 

The scary one began to speak, and Minho didn’t even get a chance to observe the other two trainees. “Hey, I’ve never seen you around. You’re new, right? I’m Chan,” Chan said.

 

Minho bowed ninety degrees, not taking any chances. “Hello, I’m two hour trainee Lee Minho. Please don’t hurt me, I’m weak,” he blurted out. Oh god, how stupid did he sound?

 

”What are we going to do, grind your bones into stew? Come on, let’s sit in a circle and introduce ourselves,” Jisung said, snorting. He motioned for the others to sit down, and Minho was surprised that they actually obeyed him. Wasn’t the scary one the all-mighty leader?

 

Minho sat wedged between cute trainee and Jisung. Chan seemed to be scanning the circle, looking for something. “Where’s Hyunjin?” Chan asked, his eyes narrowing.

 

Minho assumes Hyunjin was the same one Jisung had mentioned in the tape. He was surprised that he himself even remembered the name, but there was a first time for everything. As he thought about it more, Minho grew curious. Where was the guy? Just as he was about to open his mouth to ask, Hyunjin (presumably) burst in the room, his hair messy and disheveled. He was dragging Seungmin by the wrist.

 

”Guys! I found a trainee! He’s new, don’t worry. Now we need another o—oh hey, we also have another trainee. Cool!” Hyunjin said, smiling as he approached the circle. Seungmin shot Minho a look before sitting down next to him. 

 

Awkwardly, the mother trainee coughed. “No need to keep awkward silence now, guys. Let’s talk about ourselves. I’m Kim Woojin, and I’m older than all of you. I’m the main vocal of this ‘project group’ and I’m excited to meet you two!” Woojin said, smiling. Minho wanted to smile too; the smile was contagious.

 

”Hi, I’m Changbin,” the next trainee said. Ah, Minho thought. The short guy he didn’t get to examine earlier. “I’m a rapper. You need to rap? Ask me. If I’m not composing. Or dancing. Or singing,” Changbin said.

 

”We get you’re talented, can we move on now?” the cute kid said. He turned back around to face Minho and Seungmin, and his expression did a complete 180. “Hello, I’m Jeongin! I was born in 2001, which makes me the youngest.”

 

Chan, Hyunjin, and a guy with freckles named Felix all introduced themselves. Minho’s head was starting to hurt from doing too much socializing, but it was okay. Chan was actually a sweet kangaroo, and he reminded Minho of a rubber duck. Hyunjin was actually very shy and sweet, completely contrasting his appearance. Felix was a big fucking meme, and Minho knew he found his person right there. He was a crackhead and he knew it.

 

Now, it was Jisung’s turn. Minho barely managed to turn his head, not wanting to turn red. “Hi,” Jisung said to Seungmin, awkwardly waving his hand. “I’m Jisung. I’m a rapper, although I’m not that good at it. I’m sorry if I disappointed you, but I don’t think I can do much else.”

 

Cries of anger rose from the group, which Minho interpreted as a jumbled mess of “that’s not true!” and “what do you mean? Are you high?” Minho secretly thought that Jisung was better than him, and shouldn’t be putting himself lower in worth than he acually was. Out of instinct, Minho grabbed Jisung’s hand.

 

Jisung jumped in surprise and looked down at their intertwined hands, smiling a bit. He didn’t pull away, and, instead, tightened his grip on Minho’s hand.

 

Minho weakly smiled, trying not to mentally combust. It was nothing but a friendly gesture, anyway. He mentally established that he’d listen to a tape when he got back home. He wanted to hear Jisung’s voice. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> during Changbin’s intro I was tempted to just have him say I’m gay but nah
> 
> also I hate this chapter
> 
> it’s terrible bear with me idk how to write fluff
> 
> the next chapters will go like this:
> 
> Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8
> 
> Fluff Fluuufff oh shit/fluff? angst


	5. l

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how many of you read this on your phone? I was looking at this format on a computer and THE PARAGRAPHS LOOK SO SHORT I CAN'T
> 
> anyway this chapter might look really long because this is the first chapter I'm actually going to write on my computer heheheh.

Minho had finally memorized everyone's names, but he was still confused. How did Chan manage to get JYP to agree to this make-shift group? Would they really actually debut? Why was Felix so weird? And, most importantly, why was Jisung so talented? Minho wasn't saying the other members were less important, Jisung just caught his eye more. He had a strong aura on stage, and when they were discussing what choreography they should learn now that they had nine members, Minho had almost died from Jisung's demo of House of Cards by BTS. 

Minho had eventually just settled that Jisung was going to be the cause of his death, and he was willing to die that way. 

"Okay, Minho, can you help choreograph this? Seungmin said you were a good dancer, and I'd like to see your skill," Chan said, snapping Minho out of his thoughts.

Minho stared at Chan, blinking a bit. Him? Good dancer? Minho really needed to have a talk with Seungmin about not making him sound better than he actually was. Clearing his throat, Minho stared at his black and white sneakers. "I mean, sure, I guess I can. Uh, what song did you have in mind?" he whispered, trying not to look up. Chan was really an intimidating person, and he was worried he'd mess something up and get removed in his first hour.

Minho was relieved to find out that the song was Warrior's Descent. The song already had a choreography, so he could borrow a bit. Hopefully. 

Practice continued, with Minho leading the choreography. He was surprised at how fast the members learned the dance and how fast he actually managed to make it. He felt like a leader for once in his life, after hiding in the back in school, only being known as the "class clown." "Jeongin, can you move your arm a bit down?" Minho said, observing the youngest through the mirror. He watched Jeongin struggle to hold his position and fall over.

"Oh my God, Jeongin, are you okay?" Hyunjin said, running towards the fallen. 

Jeongin nodded from the ground, slowly getting up. "I didn't really get hurt, maybe just got a bruise on my leg. It's okay, it's small," Jeongin said, assuring the older members as well as Minho. If he had gotten someone hurt while practicing choreography, he would have definitely had to resign. Especially Jeongin. Jeongin was too cute to hurt, and Minho could tell everyone in the room had mutual feelings for the younger.

Besides the minor injury, everything finished smoothly. When the last beat of the song played, half of the members collapsed while the other four leaned on the mirrors. Checking the clock, Minho was surprised to see it was three o' clock. It had been around ten when he had gotten to the JYP building. They had been practicing Warrior's Descent for five hours straight. And, honestly, Minho didn't even like the song.

Minho saw Woojin whisper something to a tired and breathy Chan. Chan nodded and clapped his hands to gain everyone's attention. "Guys, let's all take a break. We don't want to overwork ourselves."

"You do that half the time," Changbin muttered from the back.

Chan pretended he didn't hear him and started packing up. Minho sluggishly moved behind the other eight, going to get his own bag. "I did something right for once," Minho said under his breath. He was quite proud.

"Hey, Minho," Jisung said, startling Minho. "I was wondering if you wanted to get coffee with me from JYP's new cafe? It's organic, you know, if you're on a diet," he continued, ignoring the fact that he had actually just scared the hell out of Minho.

Minho, with his black duffel bag slung over his left shoulder, checked his phone to make sure his mom wasn't bugging him to come home. No texts. Looking back up at Jisung, Minho smiled. "Sure, I can get some coffee. Only if I pay," he added, cheekily smiling.

Jisung pouted, punching Minho's shoulder. "What do you mean, you're paying? I'm offended, do I look poor to you? I'm paying. And you are not fighting me on this," he said.

Jisung started walking out of the door, reaching into his bag to retrieve his wallet. 

Now, normally, Minho would have let anyone pay for him if they asked. He was a broke college student, what was he going to do, take money out of his wallet for something he could get for free? No, obviously not. However, Jisung was different. Something about the younger made Minho want to spoil him, even if he wasn't rich. Maybe it was just the protective older brother feelings kicking in.

Jisung was almost out of the door. Minho suddenly got an idea. He sneaked up on Jisung, and wrapped his arm around his waist, pulling Jisung closer to his body. Minho wasn't too tall, but Jisung was adorably short. HIs hair was tangled and brushing against Minho's neck, and he squashed the urge to laugh. "Hey, Jisung," Minho whispered into Jisung's ear. He felt the younger shake against him and smiled. He was in control. "How about we make a deal? If I can reach the cafe before you, I get to pay. If you make it there first, you can pay for whatever I order. Got it, buttercup?" Minho said, resting his head on top of Jisung's.

Minho didn't know where his courage came from, but since he had gotten it, he might as well have used it. He knew Jisung was turning red from his reflection in the foggy mirror, and Minho wondered if he was choking Jisung on accident. He never got to ask, as Jisung bent his head backward to look Minho in the eye.

It was a beautiful moment. Jisung was wrapped in Minho's arms, as he had accidentally hugged Jisung on reflex. Jisung was surprisingly soft and clean for someone that had been practicing for five hours straight. Minho was only three inches and three centimeters taller, his insoles giving him those three inches, but Jisung was so small in his arms. The younger was wearing an oversized grey hoodie, and his extra long sleeves made him look so tiny. Minho wanted to squish Jisung, and he resisted the urge to pinch Jisung's face. It was quite hard, as the urge was strong.

"I—I agree to your conditions, Lee Minho," Jisung said, barely managing to keep eye-contact with Minho.

Minho broke into a huge smile. "It's on, then."

"Can you let me go first?"

"No, it's easier for me to win this way."

Jisung scoffed, but he couldn't do anything. Minho had him trapped, and he slowly made his way to the elevator, making sure Jisung didn't escape. The younger had given up on struggling at this point, choosing to cuddle snugly into Minho's side.

The elevator reached the bottom floor, and, before Jisung knew it, Minho let go and started sprinting as fast as he could. He knew the cafe was the last room on the left side of the right hallway, as he remembered the receptionist telling him during his tour. Minho looked back to see Jisung sprinting even faster than he was, trying to catch up. He looked like a mad squirrel, and Minho honestly found it cute.

Finally, Minho reached the cafe doors. He slowed down a bit to make a more presentable appearance, opened the door, and quickly stepped in. A few seconds later, Jisung burst in, getting dirty looks from the barista. Minho snickered as Jisung bowed in embarassment.

Jisung hit him on the shoulder, glaring with mock anger in his eyes. “Stop embarrassing me, hyung.”

Minho shrugged, his attention on the menu. JYP had a wide variety of food choices, most of them healthy. Minho saw Jisung already ordering, hearing him whine when the barista refused to put extra sugar in his order. “But, noona, why can’t I have more sugar? It’s bitter!” Jisung said, pouting.

Minho watched the barista sigh, pulling her cap down. “Jisung, JYP told us to make sure all trainees eat healthy. You cannot come in here asking for ten packets of sugar. Ten. I don’t even ask for that many for my coffee,” the girl said, propping her head up.

Minho chuckled. Jisung was really cute. Walking up to the two, he slung an arm over Jisung’s shoulders before pushing him out of the way, ignoring him. Minho stared at the barista. “Excuse me,” Minho said. “Can I have some extra sugar with some black coffee? Ten or so packets.”

The barista blinked and stared back. “I’m sorry, the gentleman was ordering, and I believe it’s very rude to push customers out of the way.”

Minho looked back at Jisung. He tried to make his eyes say ‘go with the plan.’ Jisung seemed to understand the message, as he shook his head and stepped back. “Oh, no, it’s okay. I might need a bit more time to order anyway, since I promised that I’d wait for my friend and he hasn’t arrived yet.”

The barista narrowed her eyes at the two, clearly suspicious. “Okay... here, your sugar,” she said curtly, handing Minho the excess amount of sugar before going to make the coffee. Absentmindedly, Minho swiped his card to pay.

When the barista came back, Minho tapped her shoulder. She looked at him with an agitated look. Minho smiles, taking his hand away. “Sorry, I just didn’t know how to get your attention without having the boy behind us hear me. He’s kinda cute. Can I pay for his order?” Minho said.

The barista looked surprised and grimaced. “Sure. I’m going to need you to swipe the card again,” she said, setting up the transaction from the register.

Minho, holding his coffee, smiled. “Okay.”

When he left to go sit down at the window, he heard Jisung order the same exact thing from earlier without the extra sugar. The barista sighed when Jisung pulled his wallet out. “The kind sir before you has payed for your meal. He thought you were cute. Disgustingly cute,” she mumbled.

Minho craned his neck to see Jisung turn red. “Wha—Minho hyung?” Jisung asked, his hands nervously tapping the counter. “I ordered something expensive, this little shit!” 

When Jisung came back, pumpkin latte in hand, the first thing he said was “I hate you so much right now.”

Minho’s face hurt from smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on a minsung fic based on my own story
> 
> jisung and minho have a failing toxic relationship. on Jisung’s birthday, Minho snaps and destroys the bond they had. the whole stories centers around their breakup and how they got back together. It’s a happy ending!
> 
> would you like to read that? I think it might end up around 10k words. It might have some slight trigger warnings thou oof.


	6. i

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> being gay + Jisung = Minho in gay panic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF HOMOPHOBIA, MENTIONS OF CUTTING, MENTIONS OF ABUSE
> 
> gUys wHAT THE FUCK 100 KUDOS???? 
> 
> gUyS IM NOT OKAY

_*beep*_

 

_..._

 

Minho sat crossed legged, staring at the tape recorder. “Play faster, stop with your stupid beeps,” he complained, almost hitting the machine. Minho refrained only because he knew that would cause the tape to eject.

 

_*beep*_

 

_..._

 

_*be—*_

 

_Minho! I can tell you haven’t played one of these tapes in a while. It’s kinda been lonely, sitting here without anyone to talk to. Then again, you’ve talked to me quite often these days, haven’t you?_

 

Minho smiled, awkwardly wringing his hands. “Perhaps. Are you going all ‘mysterious all-knowing tape recorder’ on me again?” He teased.

 

_Bold of you to assume I know anything. I know as much as a rock. Which, I assume knows a lot more than the average person, since everyone these days is just a stupid shell. That’s a deep topic for another day. And that’s not the only thing that’s going deep—_

 

“Oh my God,” Minho said, whacking the top of the tape player. “You’re innocent. Jokes like that shouldn’t come out of your mouth. Who raised you? Chan wouldn’t approve of his children making such foul jokes!”

 

It had been a month since Minho had been accepted to JYP, and he had started to know the other members better. He hung out with them a lot, let Chan and Woojin take care of him and his small will to live, bothered Changbin at two in the morning, went to dance practice with Hyunjin and Felix all the time, punched Seungmin, and babied Jeongin. It was like he was always there, like he never missed a beat of the group’s existence.

 

_Chan wouldn’t approve of me using 'such foul language,' but he wouldn’t enforce it. Woojin would chop my tongue off and feed it to you guys for dinner. I’d probably walk in with a bunch of tears in my eyes. You’d probably ask “What’s wrong?” because you’re too nice for your own good. Then, I’d open my mouth and watch as you guys scream in horror as blood pours out._

 

_That’s a really disturbing mental image. I’m so sorry for making you envision that. But, hey, at least I never described more. That would have been absolutely disgusting. Blood dripping out of my mouth, unable to talk, Han Jisung drops to the ground, his knees crumpling under him. Slowly, his body twists and contorts into an unrecognizable shape. I sound like a fan fiction writer._

 

_Oh! That’s right! I was going to ask you about Train to Busan. Have you seen it?_

 

Minho shook his head before realizing Jisung couldn’t see him. “Oh, no, I haven’t. Is it a good movie?” he asked, genuinely curious. For a second, only silence came from the tape.

 

_G—Good movie? Of course, it is! I’d give it a 10/10 if no one died. It’s about this dude and his daughter getting on a train to visit the daughter’s mother in Busan. But, like, zombies exist. And everyone dies. And there’s blood. And it’s sad. I’m about to cry just thinking about it. Seriously, one day we have to watch it together._

 

Minho hummed, pulling out his phone to search up Train to Busan. Two hours long and released in 2016. 2016? Minho frowned, thinking about the time this tape was made. Didn't Jisung say that his National Geographic video was—

 

_Anyway, enough about Train to Busan. I can feel the tears starting to fall. Let's talk more about... I don't know... what do we usually talk about? Cats? Dogs? Roosters? I don't want to talk about sad things. In case you can't tell, I'm not at the JYP building right now, I'm in my apartment. So, uh, yeah. That's why I'm not yelling. My dad's actually a few rooms away, and I don't want him to hear me talking._

 

Minho nodded his head in agreement, trying to push the thought from earlier away. "Yeah, I noticed a bit earlier. You usually scream a bit more," Minho mused, smiling and lightly stroking the tape player.

 

Minho opened his mouth to say something but heard Jisung take a deep breath. Assuming the younger was about to start ranting, Minho shut his mouth again. However, after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Minho didn't hear Jisung. Leaning closer, Minho blinked fervently. "Where did you go?" Minho asked. After a few seconds, he sighed. "Jisung, are you—"

 

A loud scream.

 

Minho quickly jumped back from the recorder, kicking it in the process. The tape flew out of the black box, hitting the wall behind Minho. Not bothering to check the damage, Minyho fell on his back, taking deep breaths.

 

Minho was not one to be easily scared. Horror movies were easy to watch. Everything was so predictable. It was obvious the main character wouldn't die, the one character who was deemed crazy was right, or the murderer would get them at the dark alley. However, the scream from the recording was scary. It was Jisung's. Minho thought about the sound again. There was a lot of background clutter in the moment. Door opening. Moving items. Crash.

 

Jisung was alive now. Surely he'd tell Minho about what happened. Fervantly reaching for his phone, Minho sighed. This would be a long day.

 

 

 

The first thing Minho did when he stepped in the JYP building was look for Jisung. The purple-haired boy had to be somewhere in the practice rooms, singing some stupid lyrical song that Minho had already been forced to listen to. Minho frowned, scouring the hallway for Jisung. The artists on the walls seemed to be laughing at him for not being able to find a squirrel.

 

Minho eventually found Jisung sitting in the cafe, sipping a hot cocoa. He looked like something was bothering him, Minho noted. Taking a deep breath, he approached Jisung and took the seat in front of him, trying to ignore how Jisung jumped in surprise. "Hey," Minho said, smiling. "How's my favorite squirrel been doing? You're eating well; I can tell."

 

Jisung lightly smiled, setting the cup of cocoa down. "Yeah, I have. That's because I recently started living at my school, and I don't manage my own meals anymore. I have to go back home in a few weeks, though. Not looking forward to that," he said, resting his head on his hands.

 

Minho looked down at Jisung, softly grinning. He swore he didn't like Jisung, but he was just so naturally cute. Minho thought that anyone would find Jisung at least a tiny bit adorable, if not a hundred percent. He had the softest face with the cutest fluffy hair. To top it all off, Jisung had the innocence and brightness of a five-year-old kid. Minho found it absolutely stunning (but don't get it mixed up; he wasn't gay.)

 

Snapping out of his small trance, Minho looked into Jisung's cup of hot chocolate. "Wow, you put so much sugar into this... how do you not get a sugar rush?" he asked, picking the mug up and inspecting it closer.

 

"Hey!" Jisung cried, sitting back up and pulling the cup closer. "Don't judge me for my taste in drinks. I just like sweet and aesthetic looking things, that's all," he said, wrapping the warm cup in his sweater paws.

 

Minho smirked. "Is that why you're so pretty and sweet? Damn, that's pretty cute, Jisung," he laughed.

 

Jisung blushed, smacking Minho's arm. "That's... that's not okay, who the hell raised you?" he mumbled, burying his face in his sleeves.

 

Minho chuckled, messing up Jisung's hair. "My mom, obviously. I think she raised me right. After all, it's having some effect on you, isn't it?" he said, leaning closer to Jisung's face. Jisung looked so pure, staring at Minho with his chocolate brown eyes through his purple bangs.

 

Minho stayed close to Jisung for a few more minutes. He could see Jisung struggling to remain normal, trying to carry on a normal conversation. "Yeah, uh, I lived with my dad my whole life. He's a pretty cool guy when he's not mad, I guess. You could meet him sometime, but I... I don't know if he'll like you," Jisung said.

 

Taking it as a joke, Minho smiled, brushing some hair away from Jisung's eyes. "Yeah? I'd like that. We should drop by your house sometimes after you're done living in the school dormitories. Oh, quick question," Minho said. "Doesn't it get boring and annoying in the dorms? Like, isn't everyone really loud and stuff?"

 

Jisung giggled, taking a quick sip of his cocoa. "No, I am the loud one. Besides, I find it a lot more comforting than when I'm at home. It's kinda like a sleepover, except you're stuck there every day, every night. That kinda makes it sound like a prison, but you get what I mean, right?" he said, getting flustered when he couldn't make the words come out right.

 

Minho nodded. "Yeah. You're a bit of a wreck, but I perfectly understand what you mean. Maybe you should try being confident: I think it would be a good look on you. I can help you with that if you want?" he suggested.

 

Jisung shook his head. "Nah, I'm perfectly fine where I am. I kinda just like being myself, you know? No need to change anything about me, I just prefer to be Han Jisung and only Han Jisung. Being more confident would be nice, but I guess it just wouldn't feel right. Does that make sense? It makes sense to me."

 

Minho hummed a quick yes.

 

When Minho pulled out of Jisung's personal bubble, he tuned out most of what Jisung was ranting about, giving a quick sound of understanding once every few minutes. He wasn't focusing on what the boy was saying, but instead the boy himself.

 

Maybe, just maybe, Minho thought, hating himself for thinking about it, he liked Jisung.

 

Just maybe.

 

 

 

Humming to the tune of Likey, Minho turned the corner to find Jisung conversing in a low voice with someone on the phone. Minho confidently walked over, a huge smile plastered on his face. It slightly faded as Minho watched Jisung rapidly blink, whisper rapid apologies into the phone, and hang up. "So, Jisung, what were you doing?" Minho asked in a teasing manner.

  
The question seemed to seriously make Jisung scared, as the younger couldn't find any words to say. "I—I was really doing nothing, just talking to my friend. Why?" Jisung said, his words sounding more like a question than a statement.

 

Minho bit his lip, looking carefully at Jisung's eyes. He didn't believe a singular word he said, but Minho decided against probing further. Minho realized he didn't even mention the tape recording, but the thought quickly dissipated. Trying to think of something to say, Minho awkwardly hit Jisung's shoulder. "Well, don't leave me all of a sudden. I got seriously worried, you know?" he said, making the situation less tense.

 

Jisung nodded, staring into space. Minho ruffled his hair, the awkwardness getting to both of them. "Uh, yeah. I guess I just, kinda panicked when you popped up behind me. You didn't hear anything, did you?" Jisung asked, shoving the phone in his back pocket.

 

Minho saw Jisung wince from the corner of his eye, frowning. "I mean, I didn't hear anything, you know I'm deaf from those loud speakers JYP installed a few weeks ago. I can barely hear anything now, it's kinda annoying," Minho said, waving his hand dismissively in the air. "Why? Were you talking about something personal?" 

 

Jisung smiled uncomfortably. "You could say that. It, it just wasn't important, okay? Don't worry. We're fine," he said, punching Minho's shoulder. "Anyway, uh, Chan asked me to find you earlier before I got distracted... you should probably hurry up, it seemed like it was something important," Jisung said, trailing off.

 

Raising an eyebrow, Minho stepped back a bit. "Chan? Being serious? Wow, that happens once in a blue moon. Sure, I'll go see him now." About to turn around and leave, Minho looked back. Jisung seemed like he was about to cry, his legs shaking. After a few seconds, Jisung fell to the ground with a loud thud, his fluffy hair covering his brown eyes. Jisung was shivering, sobbing quietly.

 

"Hey," Minho mumbled, fully facing Jisung. "Jisung, are you okay? The therapist is downstairs, I can take you there if you want," he said.

 

After a few moments of silence, Minho approached Jisung, raising a hand to help. "Don't cry, I—"

 

Minho froze, his hand still in the air. Jisung flinched against the wall, pulling his legs closer to his chest. Minho watched as the tears dripped down Jisung's face, shimmering against the bright light from the ceiling. At that moment, Jisung looked so small, his oversized sweater covering his hands. When he reached up to wipe his tears, Minho saw Jisung's hands, covered with bruises.

 

"W—Why'd you flinch?" Minho asked, nervously biting his lip. Had he done something wrong? Why was Jisung crying? Why was he shivering? 

 

Jisung shook his head, quickly trying to use his hands to push himself up, frantically struggling to stand up. One of Jisung's arms went up for balance, and his sleeve went down, revealing more bruises varying in size and severity. Minho tried to reach out to grab Jisung's arm, wanting to yell at him to stop running away, but it was no use. Jisung had managed to scramble up, and, in the few seconds Jisung stopped to look him in the eyes, Minho saw a lot more pain than he ever wanted to see emit from anyone's soul, especially Jisung's. 

 

After those few seconds were over, Minho was stuck in place, still trying to recover from the events that had just occurred. His head was a wreck, thinking about everything he had seen. Were those scars? Was that a bruise? Was that a burn mark? Minho groaned, trying to push the image out of his head. However, it stuck with him, making it the only thing he could see. "Oh my God," Minho whispered, covering his eyes.

 

A white-hot flash of rage passed Minho's eyes, and he suddenly opened them wide. Clenching his fists, Minho's pupils darted around the hallway, looking for where Jisung could have gone. Taking a wild guess, Minho ran east, feeling the anger build up in his stomach. If Minho couldn't find Jisung, who knew where he was? What if he was in danger? Minho thought back to the conversation he had had with Jisung in the morning.

 

"Woah, Minho! Why are you running so fast?" a voice said, catching onto Minho's arm and dragging him back.

 

Minho almost fell down, tripping in place. Quickly using the other person's arm as support, he looked to see who stopped him from beating someone up. Bang Chan was staring back down at him with a curious look on his face. He seemed just as confused as Minho was, awkwardly gripping onto Minho's left arm. "Hey, dude, you okay? Seriously, you know JYP hates people running down his freshly tiled hallways," Chan said, setting Minho back upright.

 

Minho frowned, tempted to make another run for Jisung. Eventually deciding against in, Minho unclenched his fist. "I was trying to find Jisung. He ran down one of the hallways earlier, and I can't seem to find him. Did you see him anywhere?" he asked.

 

Chan tapped his lips, looking up at the ceiling lights. "Huh... no, sorry. I can't remember seeing him anywhere. I've been down the north and south hallways already, so he's probably in the east composing some new beats for 3Racha since the board says that studio is full and the rest of the gang is practicing. Why?" Chan asked, tapping his foot.

 

Minho gulped, deciding to try and play it normal. He couldn't tell Chan that Jisung had just had a mental breakdown in front of him. "I, uh, we were playing hide and seek. So, technically you helped me cheat a bit there. Thanks, Chris," he said, pulling out some finger guns.

  
Chan snorted. "Chris? The last time anyone called me Chris was when Felix was trying to figure out how to pronounce Chan right. You're really getting your English game on today, huh?" he teased, poking Minho's shoulder.

 

Minho nodded, feeling his soul start to calm down. Maybe Jisung had just remembered something he was supposed to finish and had rushed away because it was due soon. The realistic part of Minho doubted that was the case, but he was willing to play pretend so he could calm down a bit. Instead of chasing after Jisung, Minho decided to entertain Chan for a bit. "Yeah? Uh, I took JYP's required English class yesterday. It was a bit of a bore, to be honest. I don't remember anything at all! I can say... like, hello and stuff, but nothing fancy," Minho complained.

  
Chan's eyes seemed to brighten. "Oh, really? I can teach you some English sometime, I'd be glad to help!" he said, excitedly bouncing up and down.

 

Minho felt one corner of his mouth curve up at Chan's excitement. "Oh? If you're so excited, can we start now? I have an assignment due and I can't seem to figure out how to do it," he explained.

 

Chan nodded, pulling out his watch. "Yeah, I'm not scheduled to do anything for at least another two hours. Let's go to one of the recording rooms since it's less sweaty then the practice rooms," Chan said, already starting to walk down the east hallway. He took Minho's hand and started dragging him along.

 

"Hey, dude, I can't walk that fast! Screw you and your long legs," Minho mumbled, trying to keep up with Chan's pace.

 

Chan giggled, turning back to look at Minho. "Sorry, no can do," he said, going even faster, bumping into a potted plant on the way. Both ignored it and kept running down the hallway like little children.

 

Minho swore he almost fell down twice in the five minutes it took to get to Recording Room No. 3.

 

When Chan pulled out his books and a pencil, Minho sighed, getting ready to study for the next two hours. However, it felt less like he was making progress in English and more like he was making progress in getting to know Chan, his future group's leader.

 

"So, who inspired you to join the industry? I didn't really start with one, but 2PM really kept me at it," Chan said, putting the pencil down in the pages of the book and kicking his chair back.

 

Minho raised an eyebrow, mimicking Chan by setting his pencil down in the folds of the English book. "I think for me it was 2PM too. They have really good songs, I swear I could listen to all of them on repeat for two months straight. What's your favorite 2PM song? Mine's kinda basic, it's My House. Don't judge me," Minho threatened, leaning farther back in his leather chair.

 

Chan laughed, hitting the table in surprise. For a second, Minho thought he had offended Chan. However, his expression told him the opposite. "Oh my God, really? My favorite song is My House too! People always call me a fake Hottest and say 'Oh, but that's just the only song you know!' Like, no, I know all of them, I just prefer that one the most," Chan explained, crossing his arms.

 

Minho smiled, nodding. He was about to respond when he noticed a small figure staring back at him through the small window pane JYP had installed at the door. Frowning, the figure disappeared too fast for Minho to make out a familiar face. Biting his lip, Minho turned back to Chan, who was staring at him with an expecting face. 

 

After two hours had passed, Minho decided he had only learned a tiny bit more about English, but a lot more about Chan. He actually found him really interesting, and Minho was looking forward to learning more about the Aussie.

 

When Minho was stepping out of the room, someone stepped out from Recording Studio No. 2. Minho immediately recognized it as Jisung, and all the emotions he had felt earlier returned. "Hey, Jisung!" Minho said, chasing after him.

 

Jisung's already retreating figure turned back around with shock in his eyes. "Oh, hey Minho. I was trying to apologize to you earlier for running away, but I saw you with Chan and decided not to interrupt. You two looked like you were having a lot of fun," Jisung said, trying not to let the jealousy shine in his eyes.

 

Minho didn't notice, as he just laughed and walked to Jisung's side. "Yeah, we were supposed to be studying English, but I ended up learning a lot more about him. It's kinda sad, to be honest, I didn't even get most of my project done," he said, frowning.

 

It was silent for a bit before Jisung spoke up. "You know, I'm fluent in English. I could teach you," he offered.

 

Minho frowned, pausing. One part of him wanted to accept the offer, but the other part of him told him that studying with Chan would be just fine. Did it make much of a difference? It was just a small decision, why was Minho's heart thinking so much about it? Maybe it was because Chan was better at English but Minho just wanted an excuse to hang out with Jisung? Ignoring his heart, Minho shook his head. "Nah, I think I'll be fine studying with Chan." Upon seeing the crestfallen look on Jisung's face, Minho felt bad. 

 

"Oh, that's okay. I'm drowning in work anyways," Jisung said, checking his walk.

 

Before Jisung could run away, Minho lightly grabbed his arm. "Hey, Jisung. I was wondering, uh, would you like to catch a movie with me on Friday? We usually only hang out in the JYP Cafe, and I wanted to meet somewhere else for once."

 

Preparing himself for rejection, Minho was surprised when Jisung smiled and softly nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that," Jisung almost whispered. "I, uh, have to go now," he said, looking at the time. "So, I'll catch you around, Minho!" Jisung said before running off.

 

Minho stood there, shocked. Had he just asked Jisung out on a date? No, it was just a friendly hang out. Even though Minho had had a small gay crisis earlier, he was sure he'd be fine.

 

Minho tried to ignore the feeling that someone was watching him as he walked forward.

  
He also tried to ignore the heavy feeling in his heart when he thought about Jisung and Chan.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY CONTINUE RANT
> 
> WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN 100 I CANT DO THIS
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR TAKING YOUR TIME TO PRESS THAT SMALL BUTTON ON THE BOTTOM OF YOUR SCREEN BECAUSE YOU ALL JUST MADE ME THE HAPPIEST PERSON ALIVE
> 
> Since I've started writing on Archive of Our Own, I've always wondered what it'd feel like to reach 100 kudos. To know that 100 people love what you're doing and appreciate your effort. The fact that this work isn't even finished yet makes me happier. I'm glad that you trust me to finish this.
> 
> THIS CHAPTER WENT UP IN CELEBRATION FOR 100 KUDOS
> 
> Hey, this is Yuna from the future.
> 
> I apologize for not updating anything. If you didn't know, I went through a hard time in my life where a lot of things brought me down. I found myself unable to write and suffocated in the pressure people put on me, and I had no option but to disappear without a trace. However, I find it quite rude to leave when people are getting so interested in what I write. Therefore, I'll try to push myself to finish this story!!!
> 
> Oof,,, leave your thoughts and theories about this part! It's really obvious what I'm trying to imply,, but,,, you know, mysteryyyy!
> 
> Want to talk to me? DM me on my Instagram: @yunalalie


End file.
